The Haunting of the Tidewater Marshes

An early winter has come upon the land as the party approaches the village of East Gimmerling on the edge of the Tidewater marshes. The sky above stretches away sere and cloudless after the recent rains, but a chill as fallen, that seems to strike to the very marrow of the bones.

The Township of East Gimmerling

On entering the town, even the most unobservant will realise that something is very much amiss. An air of foreboding seems hang over the town like a dark cloud. The towns good folk, clad in sober black broad cloth and tall buckled hats hurry down the narrow cobblestone streets, casting darted glances but meeting no ones gaze, as they go to their tightly shuttered homes, and everywhere are black cats, curled up sleeping, stretching and yawning or leaping from fence to fence, their tails a swirl.

When the party enters the market square, which normally should be bustling with activity at this time of day, they will find it deserted, except for the ever present cats. Even the towns few ragged dogs seem to have slunk off. As the daylight fades, and the sun dips behind the skeletal tree's to the west, the only gleam of light will come from the towns inn, the Hound & Boar, across the darkened and leaf strewn square.

The Inn

The Hound & Boar is an ancient establishment, its scarred dark oak panelling and heavy solid furniture recalling a bygone age. The air inside is sombre, the clientele strangely subdued as they converse in hushed tones, or not at all. Food may be ordered, and should the party do so, they will be sitting down in front of their unappetising victuals (boiled beef, cabbage and potatoes) when a piercing scream will ring out, from somewhere across the towns silent townhouses and night shrouded streets.

The atmosphere in the pub changes in an instant. Men stir uneasily, casting sidelong glances at each other as the scream continues, jagged and unending. Then suddenly galvanised, they scramble from their stools, grabbing sword, partisan or blunder bus from walls pegs and brands from the fire place as they will pour through the doorway.

The party can join the exodus, in which case the mob will carry them to the house of Granny Featherstone the witch. Should they remain in the inn, the villagers will return bearing with them the strange marred body of Granny Featherstone.

Random Town Encounters

1-10% Stray dog (hp 2).

21 – 30% Night watch. Armed with estocs, rapiers

31 – 50% Drunk

The Witch House (fit tumbling in)

The witch house is a quaint cottage of cheerfully painted weatherboard with lacey trellis's of intertwined ivy climbing the porch. Surrounding the cottage is a explosion of blossoming primroses, snap dragons, roses of all descriptions, beds of herbs and vegetables and an incredible profusion of flowering shrubs. On the rear porch is a disturbing discovery, a mattered mass of blood matted hair, tissue and bone, shredded beyond recognition. Should the adventurers stoop to the gory task of recovering the bones, it will be found that they are all from a single animal, a dog (that the old lady had a dog will be confirmed by her neighbours).

Inside the the cottage is filled with pot pouri and other bric a brac, which litters every available surface. A search of the cottage will produce little result. Should the players think to search for evidence of black magic, they will not find one indication that granny Featherstone participated in occult activities. From the kitchen a number of healing potions (of altheus and willow bask) can be obtained. These potions (20 small ointment jars worth) will cure 1-2 hp per bottle.

Lies just beyond a pentagram of white powder, which signficantly has one side broken. Candles flicker at each edge of the pentagram, in response to a cold draft that seems to emanate from somewhere in the depths of the house.

The Marshes

Dark brackish water laps at the banks and around the piers. Punts, coracles and other flat bottomed craft are drawn up on the mud banks

Heavy mist clings to the tree's. The haunting cry of the whooperwill. Screach of the owl. Dark lapping water

Random Encounters (Night)

1-20% Swamp goblins. Silently paddle a punt through the dark avenues of willow. Mounted in the prow of their punt is a punt gun (a huge flintlock musket about 12' long, filled with birdshot) which they employ as a small canon when they catch the ducks upon the lakes.

21-40% A solitary scrodger from the town

41-60% Giant spiders

90-98% The Swamp demon

99-100% Toad, Rat, mole and Badger

The Summoning

About midday the mist will begin to burn off, and the party may sight the spires of the cathedral through the tree's, in any event about 2:00 PM, just as the days heat is building to a peak, a series of slowly ascending notes will boom out sonorously across the marshes, instantly giving away the towns position. The scales are from the cathedral organ back in East Gimmerling.

The notes will ascend until they can go no further, and then silence will fall.

But after the space of perhaps a minute, the same ascending scale will be repeated, starting from an octave lower. This pattern will continue for the best part of a quarter of an hour, after which there will be silence for five minutes before a thunderous melody bursts forth from the great organ, sending the birds shrilling from the tree's and small mammals skittering for concealment.

It is presumed that at this point that the party will make their way back to the village, and the following events are based on this presumption …

On their return to the village, the party will find a bewildered and terrified crowd of villagers surrounding the cathedral. Petrified with fear, none will dare to accompany the party past the stone walls of the graveyard, and it will be left to the party to approach the cathedral by themselves.

But even as they approach either through the graveyard or up the gravelled walk, the music change, becoming madder, wilder, rapturous. The main doors if tried will be found to be open. Otherwise the party can smash their way through one of the many windows or even scale the walls and enter through the roof.

Once the party has gained the inside the cathedral, the music rises to a thunderous, triumphant crescendo. But all eyes will be drawn to the ring of coruscating blue white light, a whirlpool of eldritch energies that slowly rotates above the nave. The centre of the vortex is clear, and through it can be seen a brazen orange sky and rolling hills of waving purple grass. Nearer at hand a milling herd of strange tentacled cat like creatures circle, and then one leaps towards the ring of fire …

… and lands yowling in the nave of the great cathedral. The creature, huge, black and pantherish with a writhing forest of tentacles that erupt from its back, crouches, the golden orbs of its eyes swivelling and then it vanishes, only to reappear a split second later, 30' to the left, near to where the priest (AC 10 hp 3) hammers at the keys of the great organ as if demented or possessed. Even if slain, the priest will continue to play, his dead limbs jerking like a marionette manipulated by invisible strings. Only by hewing him to pieces or dragging him bodily from the organ can the music be stopped.

As the organ continues its thunder more of the creatures will leap through the portal until a snarling pack roams down the aisles of the great nave. They will continue to keep coming until such time as the portal is closed. Closure of the portal is only possible if the music is played backwards. Fortunately for the party, the sheet music in front of the priest has this noted in bold print at the top of the page (in large letters).

The displacer beasts will mill about the great cavern of cathedral uncertainly, some will stalk and attack the adventurers but the bulk of the pack will ignore them, prowling throughout the cathedral as they explore their unfamiliar surroundings.

Showdown

Jubilant with their discovery of the ripe pickings outside, excitement will quickly spread throughout the pack, and within a few seconds every displacer beast will wink out of existence as though they were never there. The party might almost think it was a bad dream except for the terrified screams from outside as the displacer beasts hunt down and eat the villagers in a gigantic game of cat and mouse.

It will be only moments after the disappearance of the last of the displacer beasts when the real villains will emerge. Suddenly the party will find themselves ringed by hundreds of black cats, which purr, all the time watching the party with malvolent golden eyes.